


Going up in the world

by RaeNonnyNonny



Series: Seven Dreams of Denmark Street [1]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, London, Matthew really is a fool, Revisionist Fairy Tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29413794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeNonnyNonny/pseuds/RaeNonnyNonny
Relationships: Matthew Cunliffe/Robin Ellacott, Matthew Cunliffe/Sarah Shadlock, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Seven Dreams of Denmark Street [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160756
Comments: 19
Kudos: 28





	1. Financial planning

Matthew Cunliffe was tossing and turning in his double bed in his flat in Ealing, West London.

It had been a long day at the office, and he had come home with a headache. Even more annoyingly, his fiancee Robin still wasn’t home. Matthew told himself he was concerned about her safety but if he were more honest with himself he was mainly just miffed she hadn’t got back in time to cook.

In an attempt to feel less restless, he started to count sheep, but got distracted thinking of each of them as deposits going into his clients’ accounts and, as an accountant, thinking about work wasn’t very relaxing.

Eventually he settled on thinking happy thoughts of the house that he (and Robin, he reminded himself - but given her paltry earnings they were hardly both contributing) were saving for...


	2. Initial deposit

Matt was talking to his mum on the phone, telling her all about his life in London and what he had been getting up to at work. As her only son and firstborn, he was quite the mummy’s boy, and he knew she would always say the right thing. She knew he and Robs were just renting but hoping to buy eventually, and, being from Down South herself, knew how much these things could cost.

“Now Matthew darling. Your father and I have been talking. We know you want to get a foot on the property ladder, so we’re sending you something to help you put down a deposit. Now what do you say?”

“Really? Thanks Mum. You’re the best.” Matthew crooned down the phone.

A few days later, a package arrived in the post with his parents’ home as the return address. His childhood nickname (Mattyroo) was written on the label in his mother’s distinctive handwriting. Matthew was momentarily puzzled - he hadn’t expected a physical gift, just a bank transfer. What could she have sent him?

Ripping open the Jiffy bag, Matthew felt three dried pods fall out, rattling slightly as they did so.

He stooped to pick them up. A dark purple business card fell out. ‘Magic beans’ was written on one side in an elegant cursive turquoise font. Intrigued and even more puzzled, he flipped it over. A small drawing of a state-of-the-art modern house, very much like what Matthew would love to live in, was sketched as a line drawing in neat black pen. No other words were shown.

Matthew stared uncomprehending. What on earth? Mum had promised something to help him and Robs put down a deposit. He was expecting at least several thousand pounds. Was this a joke? Mentally he checked it wasn’t April Fools Day. Nope, wrong season. In a hot rage, he went to the back door, opened it, hurled the pods out into the back yard and slammed the door shut again.


	3. Overheads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that's right, we're doing Matt and the Beanstalk!

The following day Matthew woke up late, dashing into the kitchen to make a coffee and pour it into a travel mug before he rushed off to catch the tube. He had flicked on the kettle and was rubbing the sleep from his eyes before he noticed how much darker the room was than normal. At first he thought he hadn’t opened the blinds properly, or perhaps there were some really dark storm clouds, but then suddenly he noticed the enormous green leaves.

“What the hell?” he muttered, reaching for the back door. There in their small back patio, emerging from a crack in the paving stones, three absolutely huge green stems reached upwards into the heavens, with leaves the size of widescreen televisions and stems each the thickness of a small tree trunk, but as bright green as a sapling. He peered upwards. The three stalks rose and curled around each other, loosely entwined and nearly blocking out the entire sky above the small yard.

He heard Robin flutter into the kitchen. She stopped and called curiously after him.

“Bloody hell, Robs. Mum said she was going to help us get onto the property ladder but I didn’t think it would be green.”

She tittered, shaking her golden head. Robin was a great prize of Matthew’s. And a prize she was - he was proud to have won her - the only half-decent bird in the area whose good looks promised fine children and beautiful family photos.

Robin, his golden goose, as he liked to call her when he was feeling affectionate (she had always preferred swans but Matthew couldn’t stand them - vicious, aggressive things, swans) - Robin, rightfully his, or would be soon, once their wedding day came and she became Mrs Cunliffe.

This same Robin stepped gingerly into the backyard, circling the roots of the tangled beanstalk. He could tell she wanted to go up it and explore - why did she always have to be so curious and foolhardy? - but he was worried. He didn’t want her to be seen falling - or, more precisely, thanks to his ever-present masculine pride, to show him up - so he insisted he go first and she could follow. 


	4. Accountant's report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Partially inspired by the fact we see TV Strike sitting in what I think is Soho Square to read the paper/meet Lorelei, and it is just round the corner from Denmark Street.

Hauling a clinging Robin up the beanstalk after him (why wouldn’t she pull her weight?), Matthew climbed and climbed, until he was at the treeline, then beyond it, and could see wispy clouds approaching from above. 

It was arduous, sweaty, unsatisfying work to make any gains, and it took what felt like hours. The beanstalk trunks were smooth and hard to grip onto, so he had to reach for the base of leaves for hand and footholds as if the climbing wall he used to visit in Harrogate had grown giant leaves.

Finally he reached the top, where the three plaited stalk-trunks diverged and trailed off, emerging out of what seemed to be a large brick well-cum-flower arrangement into a sunlit square. Pushing these aside and climbing out, Matthew took in his surroundings. It looked a little like a cleaner version of Soho Square, but there were no pigeons, tourists or piles of litter and leaves.

Still clutching Robin close to him, Matthew walked around a bit, trying to get his bearings. He didn’t know this area that well - his company’s offices were located further east over in the City, one among many identikit high rise office blocks with shiny slanted glass walls and pristine marble-like lobbies. This was a much older, much more labyrinthine part of London (if it really was London?) with (to Matthew’s suburban sensibilities) less glamorous historical associations than the smart City of London. 

As he wandered around the deserted square, listening to birdsong, something glinted gold - something other than Robin’s hair.

On a bench around the outside of the pedestrianised centre of the square, he spied a small pile of pound coins, and next to them a battered leather man’s wallet. 

Matthew looked carefully around to see if anyone was nearby, and when he realised there was nobody in the vicinity, acted as if he himself had dropped the wallet and pocketed the coins one by one.

Straightening up and continuing his stroll around, he took in the sight of a battered statue of a nobleman and what looked like a mock Tudorbethan shepherd’s hut structure in the centre of the pedestrianised square. What a strange thing to find here, in central London, thought Matthew, and made a note to read up about it on Wikipedia later so he could show off his London trivia next time he went for drinks with the guys from the office. They loved that stuff; always lapping up pretentious London history crap, those Oxbridge men. Matthew knew how it was; keeping them entertained was the way to be one of the boys and ensure he wasn’t going to be passed over for promotion. With a house to buy, Robin’s earnings to prop up and any future little Cunliffes to support, he wasn’t leaving anything to chance.


	5. Gross income

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter, pursued by a bear - I mean, a suspiciously familiar Cornish Giant...

Suddenly Matthew became aware that the ground was vibrating.

In the otherwise peaceful square the ground was shaken by a heavy thumping, as if created by massive ungainly steps, or even hops, much greater than could be caused by any mere man.

Birds that had been resting on the roof of the shepherd’s hut and perched on the statue and benches scattered with alarm, leaving an eerie silence, and Matthew felt suddenly tense, like a pile of tumbleweed might roll past, heralding a Wild West pistol fight like in the films he used to watch on a Sunday afternoon with his father.

The thumping came closer and stopped. A low growl was heard, echoing around the square, but he could see nobody in the doorways of the buildings surrounding it.  Matthew was slightly scared to look round, and clutched Robin to his side again, hunching down behind a bin in an attempt to disguise his height.

The growl morphed into a low, throaty chuckle, and then the owner of both began to speak. 

“Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of a Yorkshireman” he boomed, slowly and menacingly, a distinctly West Country twang melding with the voice of a native Londoner. Matthew’s mother had always hated regional accents.

He heard Robin gasp, and whip her head around, golden plumage (she had feathers now?) gleaming in the sunshine as it moved.

Her beady eye is caught by the Giant (for this was who had spoken), who had paused, his grizzled, heavily bearded face burning with greed and desire as he stared down at them. No - not at both of them - his gaze was fixed upon Robin! An evil grin spread across his ugly dumb face, with a many-times broken nose, horrid pube-like hair and battered ear.

Looking Matthew, who was frozen behind the bin, slowly up and down with narrowed eyes, before continuing to gaze lustfully at Robin, the giant continued his malevolent rhyme: “ - Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll steal his bride before she wed.”

Matthew stared at him. His clothing was dishevelled, dark and scruffy, but he was wearing a shiny military medal that Matthew did not like the look of one bit. Why would a giant have served in an army? Suddenly he was afraid. Was there more of them? 

At some point Matthew had let go of Robin, and to his horror he saw she was stepping hesitantly towards the Giant, coquettishly ducking her head and looking at him with side glances, as if flirting with the Giant.

Even with a distinct limp, the Giant could move fast, and he made a grab for Robin before Matthew could fully realise what was happening. The Giant wrapped Robin in a green blanket and embraced her, cooing and chuckling to her.

“Robin!” Matthew called after her but she clucked and squawked at him, frowning, and shook her head, as if Matthew was somehow being ridiculous and embarrassing her. He noticed suddenly a long purple scar down her left wing, disfiguring her pale beauty. That had to be the Giant’s fault. Who was this Giant that he would come and steal what was rightfully Matthew’s, right from under his nose?


	6. Assets and liabilities

Matt’s anger burned at the injustice. How dare the giant take his Robin, his golden goose, from him? He had won her fair and square, back in their hometown!

Matthew conveniently chose not to dwell on how the wallet and coins had distracted him and, so fixated on stealing what wasn’t his without anyone noticing, he had let Robin go.  Matthew reasoned that he had found them abandoned - they could not be said to have obviously had an owner and he could still give them back; there was still time.

The giant somehow seemed to be onto him, however.

He slowly bent down, his eyes level with Matthew's, and his piercing eyes swept over the smaller man's frame.

‘Where’s my wallet, mortal man?’ h e growled at Matthew, looking him in the eye once again.

Matthew didn’t flinch. He had practice lying. 'Wouldn’t know. Where’s the last place you saw it?'

The giant looked at Matthew’s bulging pocket and heard the faint chink of coins as he pulled his dressing gown nonchalantly round him.

The giant chuckled slowly and smugly.

‘You fool of a man. That was Leprechaun’s Gold you stole.’ His Cornishness seemed more exaggerated with each word he spoke. ‘Anyone who takes it from their rightful owner - and that would be me’ (the Giant bared his huge yellow teeth the size of piano keys in a mocking smile) ‘shall be frozen to the ground until they admit it and sacrifice something in exchange. Bet they didn’t teach you that at Bath Spa Polytechnic did they?’ He laughed heartily at the last jab. Matthew was very touchy about not getting an offer from his first choice of university. Had Robin told the Giant somehow?

Matthew glared daggers at him.

‘Give me back my Goose! She’s mine!’

But he made no mention of the gold, his culpability or any intention to confess.

He wasn’t about to back down - but he found he couldn’t move - just as the giant had said. Now he had Robin in his grasp - how was it fair to lose gold to him too? Matthew squirmed as if he were tied to a chair by his ankles, but to no avail.

Stalemate.

But then Matt’s attention was diverted by a sound from behind him.

A shrieking avian cry was heard in the square, and a rustle of feathers.  A familiar overpowering floral scent reached him, which for some reason he associated with bedsheets...

He looked around with foreboding to see a peacock-like animal strutting over, tailfeathers in full display, its eyes fixed malevolently on Robin and beginning to circle Matthew possessively.

Coming round to face his challenger the Giant, the Shadlock emitted another piercing cry, almost like a bark of laughter, and dropped a tear-like diamond earring on the ground between Robin and Matthew.

In horror, Matthew looked at Robin. She was staring at him, silently, sneering at his foolishness, judging him. She could see now his dark secret, his inadequacies exposed in daylight on the tarmac of a square in central London.

She knew now how well he knew that other bird. Her fiancé had been caught embracing another and she had nothing to stay for any longer. Robin shook her beautiful golden head slowly, then turned and flew away. And to Matthew’s astonishment, after giving a long look of disgust at Matthew, the Giant turns slowly and lumbers after her, leaving Matthew still frozen (but by shock this time) and Sarah nuzzling his arm, emitting keening, pitiful cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know peacocks are male, but Matthew doesn't. And he is also a bit fuzzy about the function of Leprechaun Gold according to the Potter universe too! Convenient, eh?


	7. Profit and loss statement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the story

Matthew couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. If it hadn’t been for that horrible lustful Giant, he would still have his golden bird, his prize Robin, and all would be well. 

In an attempt to salvage his efforts, he grabbed the Shadlock bird, turned his back on the city in the sky, and climbed down the beanstalk with her.

As he descended, he thought he could hear distant singing, as if a choir were telling the tale of his journey.

_ There was a man who had a bird with reddish golden hair _

_ But he lost her to a giant in a city in the air _

_ The man just wanted golden eggs and to keep her on a shelf _

_ The Giant saw the soul within and loved her for herself... _

In a dark bedroom in Ealing, Matthew Cunliffe woke with a start.

Robin Ellacott still wasn't home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed my take on Matt and the Beanstalk!  
> I am planning up to six more fairy tale adaptations in the Strellacott universe from various points of view - watch this space...

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder if you can guess where this is going?


End file.
